


throw your shapes

by SoloChaos



Series: go go go (one of us) [12]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1910052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloChaos/pseuds/SoloChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part XII</p><p>(we interrupt your usual program to bring you Patrick Stump's point of view)</p>
            </blockquote>





	throw your shapes

**Author's Note:**

> I got carried away
> 
> it's not even proofread so please feel free to point out any mistakes
> 
>  
> 
> Here's the translations for the walkie-talkie lingo Patrick uses:
> 
> Yes = Affirmative  
> Finished speaking = Over  
> Conversation completed = Over and out  
> I heard you = Copy that  
> Understood = Roger that  
> Message received = 10-4  
> Location = 20  
> Urgent business = 10-17  
> Visitors present = 10-12  
> Awaiting your next message/assignment = 10-65  
> Anything for us? = 10-18

_Patrick was twenty-two and fresh out of med school when he met Josh._

_He grew up thinking that he was different for graduating high school at only 14, college at 18, and medical school at twenty-three._

_Oh boy, was he wrong._

_The boy was completely naked, bald, and huddled in the corner of the hospital room. Patrick takes a step back in shock when the boy looks up and stares at him with dark, inhuman eyes._

_"Like I said," the agent says. "Different."_

_Patrick looks away from the eyes to see that the boy is covered in wounds. Bite-marks?_

_"Who- who is he?" he asks the government agent hesitantly._

_"We aren't sure yet," the agent replies, adjusting his hat. "We're still going through the files." He looks at the boy with a sad expression. "The many, many files."_

_"Do you need me to treat him?" Patrick asks, looking back down at the boy. The kid looks absolutely terrified, and Patrick hesitantly gives him a smile._

_"Yes, that's why you're here," the agent says._

_Patrick slowly approaches the shivering boy on the ground._

_"Hi," he says gently. "I'm Patrick."_

_The kid looks up at him with those wide, unnervingly dark eyes._

_"What's your name?" Patrick asks._

_The boy's eyes flicker around quickly before answering. "My name is number eleven," he says quietly, voice hoarse with what sounds like disuse._

_Patrick blinks. "Your other name," he says._

_The boy looks confused. "My name is number eleven," he repeats._

_"Your birth name?" Patrick tries._

_"My name is number eleven," the boy says, starting to sound agitated._

_"Okay, okay, calm down," Patrick says soothingly. "Just tell me your name."_

_"Number eleven!" the kid suddenly screeches. Patrick falls back in surprise. "Number eleven! Number eleven! Number eleven!" He bangs his head against the wall. "Number eleven!" He starts to smash his head repeatedly._

_"Oh, oh no," Patrick says, sliding his hand between the boy's head and the wall. He catches the boy's head and holds it. "Shh. Calm down. It's okay." He looks back for help, but the agent has already left._

_The boy struggles for a moment before going limp. He whimpers a little, sounding pitiful._

_"Okay," Patrick says, taking a deep breath. "Okay. Your name is number eleven?"_

_"My name is number eleven," the kid confirms._

_"Good, good," Patrick says. "And my name is Patrick." He sits back and takes a good look at the shivering boy in front of him. "Would you like some clothes?" he says, standing up and looking around for some scrubs._

_He locates a hospital gown on the bed, and briefly wonders what the kid is doing not in bed, but shrugs it off._

_Patrick is beginning to help slide the gown on the boy when he realizes._

_The boy has gills._

_And_ fins.

_"Oh," Patrick murmurs to himself. "Oh, my."_

_The boy looks up at him nervously._

_"No, no, it's okay," Patrick quickly assures him. He ties the straps on the back of the gown around the fins on his back. "See? It's just fine."_

_The boy looks at him with something indecipherable in his eyes._

_"All right," Patrick says, clapping his hands together. "Let's get you onto the bed, okay? It'll be way more comfortable up there."_

_He helps the boy to his feet and walks him to the hospital bed._

_"Comfy, see?" Patrick says._

_The boy stares at him with unsettlingly empty eyes in response._

_"All right, um," Patrick says, wondering where to begin. The boy is obviously malnourished, possibly dehydrated, but he also has open wounds all over his body. "Okay."_

_He sets up an IV so he can begin to hydrate the kid before tackling the wounds. Bite-marks._

_"It'll just pinch," Patrick says as he cleans the boy's wrist. He prepares himself for resistance when he holds up the needle for the IV, but the boy just holds out his arm without being asked. He doesn't even flinch when Patrick slides the needle in._

_"Okay," Patrick says as he covers the needle with gauze. "We're going to start on the cuts near your heart, all right? I know we just got it on, but could you take your gown off?"_

_The boy just stares, not seeming to understand._

_"Your gown," Patrick says, pointing. "Take it off?" He mimes pulling it off._

_Cautiously, the boy pulls the gown over his head._

_"Okay," Patrick says, taking a deep breath._

_There's a decent sized bite on the kid's chest, over the left part of his rib cage. Thankfully, it doesn't seem to be too deep, and appears to be a relatively clean bite._

_"This might sting a little," Patrick says as he opens another package for an antiseptic wipe. The boy doesn't even seem to notice when he begins to clean._

_"No pain," the boy suddenly says, and Patrick jerks back in surprise at the sudden sound._

_"Sorry?" he says once he's recovered._

_The boy looks nervous. "Me..." he begins, pointing to himself, "no pain. No feel pain."_

_"You don't feel pain?"_

_The boy starts to nod, but pauses, considering. "Some," he says, and Patrick catches a flash of pointed teeth. "Lots pain, some feel. Some pain, no feel."_

_"Needles don't hurt?" Patrick asks._

_"Sharp colds, no pain," the boy confirms._

_"All right," Patrick says, taking a deep breath. He throws away the wipe before grabbing a needle and threading it. "You might feel some pulling."_

_The boy watches as Patrick carefully stitches the bite closed. He doesn't seem disgusted or scared, but impassive as he watches a needle go in and out of his skin._

_Patrick's cutting the thread off on the last bite needing stitches when the agent comes in._

_"Could I have a word, Doctor Stump?" he says, gesturing towards the hallway._

_"I'll be right back, okay?" Patrick says, patting the boy's knee._

_The boy doesn't say anything, but blinks for the first time Patrick can remember._

_"Josh Dun," the agent says as soon as the door is closed. "He's been imprisoned for fifteen years."_

"Fifteen?" _Patrick says, thunderstruck. "How old is he?"_

_"About sixteen," the agent says, looking tired. "Only sixteen."_

_"Jesus," Patrick mutters. "You said imprisoned? Where?"_

_"A science facility," the agent says, looking mildly disgusted. "Although I might argue about how scientific it was."_

_"Was it because of...?" Patrick gestures to his neck and back._

_"No, no," the agent says, and he looks both angry and sad all of a sudden. "No, the... scientists. They did that to him."_

_"They... they_ what?" _Patrick demands._

_"They..." The agent sighs, pulling his hat down further on his head. "They mutated him with a shark. A great white shark."_

_"Jesus," Patrick says again. He suddenly realizes something. "Wait. He said he was 'number eleven.' Does that mean...?"_

_"There were ten before him," the agent confirms, looking exhausted. "And forty-three after."_

_Patrick leans against the wall. "Fifty-four?" he says, feeling lost. "Fifty-four kids mutated with sharks?"_

_"No, not just sharks," the agent says. "Eagles, wolves, monkeys. The whole damn animal kingdom."_

_"Oh, God," Patrick says, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes. "Are you saying there are fifty-four mutant kids in this government hospital?"_

_"No," the agent says, looking sad. "Only nineteen."_

_"What happened to the other thirty-five?" Patrick asks._

_"Dead," the other man says. "Some didn't survive the mutation, some were killed by each other, some killed themselves." He sighs. "And some had to be killed."_

_"Killed? Why? By who?" Patrick questions._

_"Some were too animalistic," the agent says. "They were killed by the scientists. Or- or us."_

_"The U.S. government killed children?" Patrick asks, appalled._

_"After those children attacked investigators," the other man says, but he doesn't look like he wants to be defending._

_Patrick sighs. "Well, if you excuse me," he says, pointing to the room where the boy- where Josh is, "I have a patient to treat."_

_"Oh, wait." The agent holds out a key card. "This gives you access to all the files on Josh Dun. The files are located in room 63, which is located on the third floor."_

_"...thanks," Patrick says, slipping the card into his pocket. He opens the door to the hospital room and goes back to Josh._

 

 

 

Patrick walks into Josh's kitchen to find his former patient, his friend, half-naked and collapsed on the ground. There's a pool of blood by his neck, and a knife clasped loosely in his hand.

Patrick doesn't even remember grabbing a towel and sinking to his knees beside Josh, but the next thing he knows he's holding the towel firmly to Josh's neck.

He takes a moment to take a few deep breaths and collect himself.

"All right," he says, closing his eyes briefly. "Okay."

Without letting go of Josh's neck, Patrick reaches back and pulls his bag to him. He opens it and one-handedly rummages for a needle.

"Just hold on," he murmurs to his unconscious friend. "Hold on."

Patrick threads a needle and knots it as quickly as possible. He lifts up the towel, thankful to see that the bleeding has slowed. He looks at the jagged carving in Josh's skin, and realizes.

Josh had tried to cut out his own gills.

"What did you do?" Patrick whispers.

Clearing his head, Patrick focuses on beginning to stitch his friend's skin back together.

 

 

  

_Room 63._

_Patrick takes a deep breath before he slides the key card down and opens the door._

_The room isn't too big, but the amount of files for just one person is astonishing. Patrick reads labels on some of the boxes._

_Eating Habits._

_Physical Appearance._

_Number XXXIX._

_Sexual Habits._

_Patrick blinks in surprise at the last one. His fingers flicker to the box automatically, but he makes himself continue to read._

_Interactions With Other Experiments._

_Interactions With Sharks._

_Interactions With Humans._

_Sleeping Patterns._

_There are a few more boxes that Patrick could look at, but he decides to open Origins._

_He almost drops the first file he pulls out when he opens it to see a picture of a baby boy locked in a cell and sobbing._

_"Jesus," he mutters._

Taken from the county mall in Columbus, Ohio _. a paper reads._ Male, approximately ten months to one year and two months. The name "Josh Dun" was found on subject's jacket. Subject will answer to "Josh Dun," or simply "Josh."

_Patrick slowly works his way through the boxes. There are far too many to finish in a single sitting, but he manages to finish Origins, Eating Habits, Sleeping Patterns, and sneak a peak at Sexual Habits before he makes himself go home._

  

 

 

Patrick cuts the gauze with a pair of scissors and fastens it with a piece of tape. He takes a deep breath, wondering how he's going to move Josh to his bed.

Carefully, Patrick slides an arm under Josh's knees and the other under Josh's back, weaving between his arms. Patrick's never been particularly strong, and Josh has never been particularly light, and he bites his lip nervously.

Summoning all of his strength, Patrick takes a deep breath before lifting his friend up, surprised when he actually manages to stand.

He staggers his way into Josh's bedroom, setting Josh on his bed before collapsing on the ground beside the bed, awed by his own strength.

"Okay," he murmurs to himself before standing back up and arranging Josh into a more comfortable position on the bed.

Patrick grabs a chair and pulls it next to the bed before taking out his tablet and checking the monitors on Tyler.

Tyler's currently sitting in his apartment, as far as Intel says, and Patrick scrolls back through the camera feed on Josh's front door to see Tyler backing out about two hours ago, screaming something before slamming the door.

Patrick looks down at his unconscious friend.

"Oh, Josh," he whispers. "What did you do?" He looks back down his government-issued tablet to see Tyler stalking off, looking horrified. "What did _he_ do?"

 

 

 

_"Speech therapy," Patrick tells the agent. "Psychotherapy. All kinds of therapy."_

_"For who, now?" the agent says, tipping the brim of his hat back so he can meet Patrick's eyes._

_"Josh," Patrick says. "He needs someone to teach him English. Proper English. And he needs someone to help him get over all the trauma he went through. He needs someone to teach him to be a person."_

_The agent blinks. "I thought that's why we hired you."_

_"I'm a medical doctor," Patrick says impatiently. "Not a psychologist. And I'm certainly not a teacher."_

_The agent nods slowly._

_"Psychotherapy and speech therapy," he says. "I'll ask around."_

_"Thank you," Patrick says. "I have a request, too."_

_"I'm all ears," the agent says._

_"Number Thirty-Nine," Patrick says. "Is she still alive?"_

 

 

 

"Howdy, Pat," Debby says as soon as she picks up the phone. Patrick can hear the wind rushing past her, indicating that she's flying. 

"You might want to land for this," he warns her.

"Give me a sec," she says, and Patrick waits a minute or two before he hears, "What's up?"

"Josh told Tyler," he tells her, and there must be something in his voice that gives what happened next away.

There's a pause.

"Where does that asshole live?" Debby growls.

"I'm going to talk to him later," Patrick promises.

"I'm turning around," she says.

"Are you sure? Won't that mess with your schedule?"

"Screw the schedule," Debby says. "I'm going to rip Tyler Joseph limb from limb."

"Why don't you come visit Josh first?" Patrick suggests quickly. It really wouldn't do Debby well if she went to jail.

"Of course, of course," she says. "How is he?

"Uh..." Patrick bites his lip, looking behind him where his friend is still out cold. "Well, he's alive."

Debby swears. "You'd better give me some time alone with that Joseph guy," she says.

Patrick chuckles dryly. "We'll see," he promises.

  

 

 

_"Thank you so much," Patrick tells the agent as he watches Josh beaming at Number Thirty-Nine, or Debby, as he's learned._

_"No problem," the agent says, offering Patrick one of the first smiles Patrick's ever seen him make. "It's most likely going to help him, so how could I refuse?"_

_Patrick shrugs as they watch Debby tackle Josh into a hug. Her golden-brown wings spread and whack her doctor in the face. Patrick does his best not to laugh at the doctor's miffed expression, and he can see the agent doing the same out of the corner of his eye._

_Debby leans in and pokes his nose, and Josh smiles. He bumps their foreheads together._

_"Do you think that they're-" the agent makes an indecipherable hand motion, "you know, in love?"_

_"Those two?" Patrick considers them. "Maybe."_

_Debby turns around and spreads her wings, and Josh, with a sigh, begins to thumb through her feathers._

_"He's- he's_ preening _her," Debby's doctor says, looking astonished._

_Josh looks deep in concentration as he sorts through her feathers. He rubs his thumb over some of them, wiping the grime onto his gown. Others he simply pulls out._

_Debby finally turns around and climbs onto his back so she can reach his head. Sighing, Josh tips his head back to give her better access._

_Debby combs through his short, barely-existent hair, much like Josh had gone through her feathers, rubbing and pulling. Josh doesn't seem annoyed or impatient, just accepting as she combs through what little had grown back._

_"And now she's preening him," Patrick says, hearing a note of wonder in his voice._

_"I think," the agent says, "that this is the best thing I've seen all week."_

_Patrick laughs._

_They watch as Debby finishes preening Josh and jumps off his back before spreading her wings as wide as they can go. Once again, one hits her doctor. It's in the chest this time, though._

_The agent snorts._

_"You've barely been home since I introduced you to Josh," he comments suddenly, and Patrick startles at the sudden noise._

_"Yeah, well," Patrick says after a beat, "there's not much to do at home."_

_"No family?" the agent tries. "Friends?"_

_Patrick shakes his head. "No one," he says, doing his best to sound flippant. "No one at all."_

 

 

 

"Yo, Patty. When do you think you'll be back? I was just going to have leftovers for dinner but if you want-"

"Pete."

There's a beat of silence.

"What happened to Josh?" Pete says, snapping into his businesslike mode. "What do you need?"

"Josh told Tyler," Patrick says. "His boyfriend, remember?"

"And let me guess," Pete says, his voice tight, clipped. "It didn't go well."

Patrick looks down at his friend, looking troubled even in sleep. Unconsciousness.

"It did not," Patrick confirms. He sighs, looking at Josh's bandages. "It did not go well at all."

Pete sighs. "All right," he says. "Give me an hour or so."

"Could you bring some more saline drip bags?" Patrick asks. "And some PPN bags?"

Pete pauses. "Do you think he'll need them?"

Patrick shrugs before he remembers Pete can't see him. "I don't know," he says. "I'd just rather be safe than sorry."

Pete sighs, sounding exhausted. "I'll grab them," he promises. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Patrick says, suddenly getting an idea. "Do you still have that file of that interview with O'Malley?"

 

 

 

_It's like a car crash in the way Patrick wants to look away, but at the same time, keep staring._

_"Shane O'Malley," the interrogator says._

_"That's me," the man the camera's focused on says._

_"And you own O'Malley Research in Biotechnology Incorporated?"_

_"Indeed I do."_

_"Do you confess to orchestrating the abduction of fifty-four minors living in the United States?"_

_"I do."_

_"Do you confess to experimenting on these fifty-four minors without the consent of either the minors themselves or their parents or guardians?"_

_"I do."_

_"Do you acknowledge that seventeen of these minors died as a result of these experiments?"_

_"I do."_

_"Do you confess to ordering that eight of these minors be killed?"_

_"I do."_

_"Do you confess to covering up your crimes you have just admitted to?"_

_"I do."_

_The interrogator sits back with a sigh._

_"Mr. O'Malley-"_

_"Doctor. Dr. O'Malley."_

_"Dr. O'Malley, why did you commit these crimes?"_

_"The government."_

_"The U.S. government? What about it?"_

_"They hired me."_

_Both the interrogator and Patrick jerk in surprise._

_"Hired you to do what?" the interrogator asks carefully._

_"To make weapons." O'Malley rolls his gray eyes. "Obviously. What else does the government want?"_

_"Were you instructed to kidnap children?" the interrogator asks._

_"Hmm? Oh, no," O'Malley says. "Why would I be here if they did?"_

_The interrogator ignores his question._

_"Is that how you gained the property to build a laboratory, and the money to perform the experiments?" he asks._

_O'Malley nods._

_"And why did you accept the government's request for you to make... weapons?"_

_"Because it would be fun," O'Malley says in a tone that makes it sound like his answer should be obvious. Patrick catches a glint of something almost... manic in his eyes._

_"Fun?"_

_"Fun," O'Malley repeats. "Imagine it. Free to experiment without pesky regulations."_

_The interrogator tenses. "But these were_ children _you experimented on," he says, no longer sounding as professional as he did a few moments ago. "People. Fellow_ humans."

 _O'Malley grins slowly, the manic glint back in his eyes._

_"Not anymore," he says._

_Shuddering, Patrick closes the file for the video and turns away, burying his head in his hands._

How could someone _do_ something like that?

_He slowly stands up and walks back to Josh's room._

 

 

 

Patrick sits next to Josh's bed with his tablet on his lap.

"I don't _care_ what your regulations are, I _need_ access to Bait's phone records," Patrick growls into his mouthpiece. "Over."

There's a sigh.

"Records being sent," 0301, the intelligence agent on the other line, says. "Received? Over."

"Affirmative," Patrick says. "Over and out."

"Roger that. Over."

Patrick combs through the records, searching for calls made two hours ago or earlier. There's one, and he hits the recording.

"Hello? Mark?"

"Tyler, hey. Listen, I forgot to tell you, but I'm visiting family."

"Oh, okay."

"I'll be back Sunday, okay?"

"Yup."

There's some rustling. "You're being kind of quiet. Everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You sure?"

Tyler sighs. "Josh and I had a... disagreement."

Patrick barely keeps himself from snorting.

"Really?" Mark sounds surprised. "You guys seemed so..." He clears his throat. "Do you need anything? Do you want me to come back?"

"Oh, no, it's fine," Tyler says quickly. "No, it's..." There's some rustling. "It's fine."

"All right," Mark says, sounding dubious. "Talk to you later, man."

"Bye."

The recording ends, and Patrick breathes a sigh of relief.

Tyler didn't tell anyone.

"0301. Come in, 0301. Over," Patrick says, switching the channel back.

"Copy that. Over," Agent 0301 replies.

"I'm going to need a notification and a recording whenever Bait makes or receives a phone call. Over."

"10-4," Agent 0301 says. There's a pause. "10-65. Over."

"Thank you. Over and out."

"Roger that. Over."

 

 

 

 

_"Josh," Patrick tries. Josh doesn't look up. "Josh," he says again." Still no response. "Number Eleven." Josh jerks up, turning to Patrick._

_Patrick sighs as he sits down on the chair next to Josh's bed. Teaching Josh his name hasn't been going well._

_"Pa'rick?" Josh says, and Patrick has to smile at that._

_"Yes?" he replies._

_"Watch?" Josh asks, pointing to the TV in the corner of the room._

_"You want to watch TV?" Patrick asks, and Josh nods eagerly. The short, dark curls that have grown back bounce._

_TV has been Josh's addiction ever since Patrick turned on a kids' show to distract him while he gave Josh a general check-up. He figures it'll probably help Josh learn to speak, as well._

_He grabs the remote and turns the TV on. The station is already playing Spongebob. Patrick kind of doubts that Josh is learning much English from that show, but he enjoys it. Plus, Patrick doesn't have to worry about it triggering anything._

_Josh barely seems to notice as Patrick shifts his gown to check the bite-mark on his chest. It's healing quite well, and Patrick's probably going to take the stitches out soon._

_Patrick tunes out the general noise of the cartoon as he jots down the progress on Josh's wound. He's not even sure why he's recording this; Patrick can remember and it's not like there's anyone else that's going to be treating Josh._

_"Pa'rick?" Josh asks suddenly._

_"Yes?" Patrick replies, looking up._

_"Thirty-Ni- Debby." Josh pauses, looking mildly disturbed. "Debby soon?"_

_Patrick checks his watch. "Ten minutes," he says, holding up ten fingers. Josh nods and looks back at the TV._

_Patrick sighs a little. Debby had taken to her name almost instantly, and from what Patrick has heard from the agent, so has nearly every other mutant. He doesn't know why Josh is so keen on being called "Number Eleven."_

_He wonders if he wants to know._

 

 

 

"Patrick?"

Patrick startles and turns around to see Josh's eyes fluttering open.

"What the hell did you do?" Patrick demands as soon as Josh seems completely conscious.

"Hello to you, too," Josh says dryly as he rubs his eyes.

Patrick makes a frustrated noise as he flops down on the chair beside the bed.

"It was because of him, wasn't it." He doesn't even bother to phrase it as a question.

Josh sighs. "He called me a freak," he whispers, and Patrick immediately narrows his eyes.

"The asshole," he mutters.

"He's really not," Josh sighs. "Who can blame him, really?"

"You're not a freak," Patrick says immediately, and Josh smiles wryly.

"I'm the freakiest," he says. "Me and my remaining fellow mutants."

Patrick sighs tiredly.

"I really didn't think he'd react like that," Josh says after a moment of silence. "He's been so open-minded. So accepting and willing to help."

"He's an asshole," Patrick says firmly. "And you're an idiot."

Josh sighs, running a hand through hair.

"You _know_ the doctors said there's no way to safely remove your gills," Patrick says after a moment of silence.

"I know." Josh is quiet for a moment. "Honestly, Patrick, in that moment I don't think I cared."

Patrick sucks in a breath like he's surprised, but really, it's not a shock at all.

 

 

 

_"Stop!" Patrick yelps, bursting into Josh's room._

_Josh looks up with scared eyes._

_"Stop," Patrick repeats, breathless as he grabs some gauze patches and presses them to the bite-marks on Josh's arm. "Oh, God."_

_"Sorry," Josh whispers, voice hoarse and unused. He looks on the verge of tears. "Sorry."_

_"Calm down," Patrick says as soothingly as he can as he tries to slow the bleeding. "It's okay- well, it's not okay, but I'm not mad. I mean, I_ am _mad, but not at you. Well yes, at you- no, not at you,_ with _you."_

_Josh just looks confused. Patrick doesn't blame him._

_"What happened?" Patrick tries._

_"Number Ten did." Josh gestures to his bloodied arm. "Fell. Never see after. Wanted try, but lots white coats watching."_

_"This is- this is not good," Patrick tells him, pointing to the self-inflicted wound on Josh's arm. "Don't do this."_

_"Death," Josh says, and Patrick pauses. "Number Ten say death good. I say yes. Death good."_

_"Why is death good, Josh?" Patrick asks warily as he checks the bleeding. It's slowing, thankfully._

_"No walls," Josh answers immediately. "No walls means no hitting heads and tubes in throat."_

_Patrick briefly flashes back to Eating Habits, where it said_ "Subject began to refuse to eat after final experiment, similar to great white sharks in captivity. (See 'Effects of Captivity' for more depth.) Feeding tube was eventually resorted to."

_Patrick grabs Josh's other hand and wraps it around his wound. "Don't let go," he instructs before going to rummage for the materials to clean the wound before stitching it up. The wound is relatively small at first glance, but shark teeth, as he found, can cut pretty darn deep._

_Patrick cleans the cut before threading the needle, both of which are becoming somewhat disturbingly quick and easy tasks for him._

_"Death is not good," Patrick tells his patient quietly as he begins to stitch the wound. "It's not good at all."_

 

 

"Thank you so much," Patrick says as he takes the drip bags from Pete.

"Of course," Pete says. "Has he woken up?"

"Yeah, about twenty minutes ago," Patrick says as he sets them down next to his bag.

"Do you think he'll need them?" Pete asks, gesturing to the PPN bags.

Patrick sighs, leaning against the wall. "I don't know," he murmurs.

Pete steps forward and wraps his arms around Patrick.

"Hey, relax for a second," he instructs. "Breathe, Trick."

"I'm breathing," Patrick protests, but he relaxes into Pete's arms and takes a few deep breaths.

"Okay," Pete says after a few moments. He steps back and pats Patrick on the back.

"Okay," Patrick echoes.

"What happened?"

Patrick takes another deep breath. "He called me," he begins. "He called me and he was crying, and he told me that he didn't want to die. So I got here and he was lying on the ground with blood spilling out of his neck. Pete," Patrick swallows hard, "he tried to cut his gills out."

Pete's eyes widen.

"But he knew there was no safe way to do that," he says. "Didn't he?"

Patrick swallows, nodding. "Yeah. He knew."

 

 

 

_"Out!" Josh shrieks, smashing his head against the wall. "Out! Out!" He digs his nails into his palms._

_"Josh, calm down, calm down," Patrick says frantically, trying to hold his patient still. "Calm down."_

_"Stop," Josh says, panting. "I... I..." He looks around frantically. "I... Out!" He struggles in Patrick's grasp, trying to bang his head against the wall._

_"Josh, please-"_

_"Number Eleven!" Josh screams. "Number Eleven! NUMBER ELEVEN!" He cuts himself off, choking on a sob._

_"Number Eleven," Patrick says softly. "Okay."_

_Josh nods fiercely. "Out," he whimpers, collapsing against Patrick._

_"What do you want?" Patrick whispers, wrapping his arms around Josh, pulling him closer. "What do you need?"_

_Josh sobs into Patrick's shoulder, fisting chunks of the fabric of Patrick's shirt in his hands._

_"I... I... please, I..." Josh stammers out before bursting into another round of sobs._

_"Shh, it's okay," Patrick says, rubbing his back. Oh_ man, _he's so not equipped to deal with this. "It's okay. It's all going to be okay. Just breathe."_

_Josh gulps a few breaths of air, pressing his head to Patrick's chest._

_"I..." Josh stammers, voice muffled. "I- I want..."_

_"What do you want?" Patrick asks softly._

_"Swim," Josh mumbles._

_"You want to swim?" Patrick asks, a little confused._

_Josh nods._

_"Okay," Patrick says, and Josh's head shoots up._

_"Yes swim?" Josh asks._

_"Yes, you can swim," Patrick confirms._

_Josh wraps his arms around Patrick. The hug is a little too tight, but Patrick very much appreciates it._

 

 

 

"Lunchbox. Come in, Lunchbox. Over," Patrick's earpiece says.

"Copy that," Patrick says into his mouthpiece. "10-18? Over."

"Affirmative," Agent 0301 says. "Record en route. Over."

Patrick looks down to see the recording sent.

"Thank you," Patrick says. "Over and out."

"Roger that. Over."

Patrick switches off the channel before clicking the recording.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, Tyler. What's happening?"

"I have something to tell you."

"Okay."

Patrick holds his breath.

"Josh is, um." There's a pause. "Um."

"Is something wrong, Tyler?"

"Uh..."

"Tyler?"

"Mom, what would you do if- um..."

"Is something wrong?"

"...no," Tyler says. "Sorry for bothering you."

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Tyler reassures her, sounding distracted. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Tyler-"

The call ends, and Patrick breathes a sigh of relief.

 

 

 

_"For future reference," the agent says, "be sure not to make promises if you don't know you can keep them."_

_Patrick watches Josh fly through the water happily. He wonders what would've happened if he had to tell Josh, no, he couldn't swim. What it would've done to their relationship._

_"Noted," he says._

_Josh seems to defy physics in the water. He doesn't move his arms, barely moves his legs, and yet he moves faster than any swimmer Patrick has ever seen. He doesn't even have to come up for air._

_Josh pops out of the water and beams at Patrick. "Come, Pa'rick!"_

_"I don't have a swimsuit," Patrick tells him._

_"You could do what Josh did and go naked," the agent says. Between the ever-present hat and the sunglasses, Patrick can't even tell if he's joking._

_"I think I'll pass," Patrick says._

_Josh frowns. "Rick," he begs._

_Patrick kneels by the side of the pool. "I don't have a swimsuit. I'm sor- AHH!"_

_Patrick tumbles into the water head first, Josh letting go of his wrist and darting out of the way. He has a moment of panic before he remembers he left his cell phone and wallet in his locker._

_"Josh!" Patrick yelps as soon as he gets to the surface._

_Josh... Josh is_ laughing. _It's a little strange sounding, more like huffing, but Patrick can tell it's a laugh. He can't even be mad at Josh now, because he's never heard him laugh before. He's not even sure if he's ever seen him smile without Debby there._

_Patrick reaches down and pulls off his shoes and placing them on the side of the pool. He shrugs off his jacket and places it there too. He wavers for a second before pulling his shirt off as well._

_Josh swims circles around him, slowly working his way up before popping up to make eye contact with Patrick._

_"Okay, show-off," Patrick huffs as he swims out. Josh lets out another huffy laugh._

_Patrick shoots a glance back at the agent, who's standing there with a smile on his lips. He salutes when he sees Patrick looking at him. Patrick gives him an odd look, and the agent laughs. It's only then does Patrick realize how young the agent is. He can't be more than five years older than Patrick. He wonders, briefly, if the agent is like him in the way they completed school. Then Josh is tugging him beneath the water._

_Josh looks a little confused as he watches Patrick go up for air every so often. He moves with such easy grace, and Patrick can't help but be a little jealous._

_"I don't have gills, Josh," Patrick says. He gestures to Josh's neck, and then to his own. Josh touches the organs on his own neck._

_"Oh," he says. He gives Patrick a pitying look, which doesn't look quite right on him._

_"It's okay," Patrick says. He dives back below the water, and Josh follows him._

_They swim around for a while, Josh swimming loops and turning flips._

_They both pop up after a bit._

_"I think I'm gonna get out n-" Patrick's suddenly cut off by chlorine-flavored lips on his. His eyes fly completely open to confirm what he was pretty sure was happening._

_Josh is_ kissing _him._

_Patrick quickly pulls back, suddenly aware of how exposed he is._

_"Sorry," he says belatedly, wiping his lips. "Just- I'm sorry, Josh."_

_And he realizes that Josh is a sixteen-year-old boy. With a developing sexuality. He wonders if Josh is trying to figure out what he likes, or if he_ knows _what he likes._

_"It's okay," Patrick says. "It's okay if you want to kiss boys, all right? You just have to make sure the other boy wants to kiss you."_

_He's not sure how much of that Josh understood, but Josh nods like he understood every bit._

_"I'd wager that he's not in love with Debby," the agent mutters under his breath as Patrick climbs out of the pool._

 

 

 

Patrick's nearly asleep on the chair next to Josh's bed when there's a loud rap on the window. Patrick nearly jumps out of his skin. He glances down, amazed that Josh hasn't so much stirred in his sleep.

Debby's perched on the window ledge, looking rather impatient as Patrick slides open the window.

"You couldn't just use the front door like any other person?" Patrick huffs.

"I wanted to see Josh right away," she says, tucking her wings in as she climbs inside. She settles herself on Patrick's chair.

"...I'll go see what Pete's doing, then," Patrick mutters.

"Have fun," Debby says pleasantly.

 

 

 

_Fortunately, Josh doesn't seem to be too bothered by Patrick's lack of reciprocation during what Patrick has mentally dubbed The Kissing Incident. In fact, he tries to kiss Brendon, another mutant, the next day._

_Spencer, Brendon's doctor, (technically nurse, as Patrick later learned,) just seems amused._

_"I think he would've kissed back," Spencer confides, "if it weren't for me. Brendon regularly tries to kiss me."_

_"And how do you deal with that?" Patrick asks._

_Spencer shrugs. "I just don't let him kiss me."_

_"You say it like it's an easy thing to do."_

_Spencer just shrugs again. "Brendon's pretty predictable."_

_Patrick nods slowly. "And he's taken to his name?"_

_"Instantly," Spencer says. "Why?"_

_"Josh doesn't respond to his name," Patrick says._

_Spencer looks sympathetic. "What number was he?"_

_"Eleven."_

_"Ah," Spencer says, nodding. "That'll do it."_

_"Why?" Patrick asks warily._

_"Josh had a long time for that name to be forced into him," Spencer explains. "It's going to be harder to convince him to call himself anything else."_

_"Oh," Patrick says. "I never considered that."_

 

 

 

Patrick is making himself a cup of coffee when he hears Josh screaming and Debby calling for help.

Patrick goes to set his mug down, misses the counter, and swears as the mug breaks. Whatever.

He dashes into Josh's bedroom to see Josh screaming, eyes wild, and Debby trying to keep him from biting himself.

"Josh!" Patrick yelps, grabbing Josh's wrists. Josh thrashes madly, snapping his mouth, trying to bite. "Josh, listen to me: you're safe, okay? Everything's all right."

Josh continues to thrash, making this horrible dying animal noise. Debby looks like she's ready to cry.

"Josh, it's Debby," she says. "Can you hear me?"

Josh lets out a low, pained moan.

"Josh. Josh!" Patrick yells. Josh looks up at him with unseeing eyes. Patrick takes a deep breath. "Number Eleven!"

Josh snaps to attention, and Patrick feels like he's on the verge of bursting into sobs.

"Oh, God," he mutters to himself. "Oh, Josh."

 

 

 

 _"I can't deal," Patrick says as he walks into the agent's office. "I can't_ deal _with this."_

_"What can't you deal with?" the agent asks warily._

_"This!" Patrick says, gesturing around. "I'm twenty-two years old! I'm not even licensed to practice! I haven't done my residency!"_

_The agent watches him with eyes that Patrick would call... sad?_

_"I don't even know if it's possible for him to ever recover," Patrick confesses. "Mentally, I mean. Emotionally." He buries his head in his hands._

_"Oh, it's definitely possible."_

_Patrick looks up to see the agent looking at him sternly._

_"So don't even_ think _about giving up, Patrick Stump."_

_"How do you know?" Patrick asks._

_The agent looks at him thoughtfully for a moment._

_"All right," he suddenly says, sounding decided about something. "I am going to tell you a secret."_

_"...okay."_

_"O'Malley Research in Biotechnology Incorporated's first seven experiments were unsuccessful," the agent says. "Their eighth experiment was their pride and joy. And unfortunately for them, old enough to figure out how to escape."_

_"One escaped?" Patrick says, gaping._

_The agent nods. "He was found not far from the facility, but far too traumatized to speak a word about what happened to him. Unfortunately, by the time he_ was _ready, the facility had long since moved locations. But I digress._

 _"Number Eight was put through enormous amounts of mostly medical treatment, but was fortunate enough to make a few friends who helped him heal. This is where_ you _come in, Dr. Stump. You're already helping Josh heal."_

_"So what happened to Number Eight?"_

_"Oh, he became able to function," the agent says. "He got a job, got a home, got a life."_

_"And you think Josh can do the same?"_

_"Patrick," the agent says, "I_ know _Josh can do the same."_

_Patrick nods slowly as he considers the story._

_"I don't even know your name," he realizes._

_"Ah," the agent says. "You can call me Agent... Donkey."_

_"...that's a code name, right?"_

_Agent Donkey just smirks. "It's classified."_

 

 

 

"Pat, Pat, Patrick," Pete says, poking his head into Josh's room.

"Shh!" Patrick hisses, pointing at Josh, who had finally managed to calm down and fall asleep again.

"Sorry!" Pete whispers. "I picked up Chinese."

"Not hungry," Patrick says dismissively.

"Patrick," Pete says. "Come eat some Chinese food."

"No, thank you."

"I wasn't offering."

"I'm busy!"

"Watching him sleep?"

"Yes!"

Josh stirs a little, making a moaning sound, and Patrick and Pete both freeze. He just shifts a bit before stilling.

Patrick grudgingly gets up to go talk to Pete in the hallway.

"I'm not hungry, Pete."

"And what have you eaten since you've gotten here?" Pete challenges.

Patrick shrugs. "Um."

"You've been here for nearly three days, and I don't think you've eaten a thing," Pete says. "It really wouldn't help Josh if his doctor passed out from malnutrition."

"I'm not going to pass out, Pete," Patrick grumbles, but he does head in the direction of the kitchen. He pretends not to notice Pete's fist-pump, or the way it nearly knocks that stupid hat of his off his stupid head.

 

 

 

 _Patrick doesn't cry the day Josh finally responds to his name, but it's a close thing._

_Agent Donkey indulges Patrick, and lets him buy the most expensive fish he can find with government money. Josh had expressed his delight in any kind of fish from the beginning, and Patrick thinks this is definitely a time for a reward._

_Josh beams at him when he sets the fish on the hospital room table, all sharp shark teeth. Patrick briefly wonders if he should've cut it up even though the file said Josh could chew through the scales and bones just fine, but Josh is chomping away before Patrick can even move to go get a knife._

_"Josh?" he says, just testing._

_"Pa'rick?" Josh asks, looking up._

_Patrick can't help the enormous smile that spreads across his face._

_"Do you like your fish?" he asks._

_Josh nods eagerly. "Thanks, Rick!" he says before going back to the fish._

_In all honesty, it's a little disgusting to watch Josh eat, but it's so nice to see him happy that Patrick can't look away._

At least the fish isn't alive, _Patrick thinks to himself. That was a video he can't ever un-see._

_"Swim?" Josh asks, and Patrick snaps out of his mind to see that the fish is gone. Completely gone. Not a bone or scale left._

_"In a bit," Patrick says. "So you can digest." He doesn't know if Josh actually needs to take time to digest, but he doesn't want to see Josh throw up. That was also a video he can't un-see._

_Josh nods, looking a little unhappy, but also accepting._

_"Watch, then?" he asks._

_"All right," Patrick says, turning on the TV. It's playing Spongebob, and Josh looks up eagerly. Patrick's not entirely certain why Spongebob has become Josh's favorite show, but it has._

_Josh scrambles to sit on his bed for a closer view of the TV. His dark curls bounce as he flops down onto his bed. Patrick thinks he might be due for a haircut, but he doesn't know how Josh will react to blades so close to his head, or if an electric razor will trigger any memories._

_Josh hums the theme song as it plays, tapping out a rhythm. He looks utterly contented, and Patrick smiles a little sadly. Just a little._

 

 

 

"Can we have that talk with Tyler now?" Debby asks eagerly.

"No biting," Patrick warns her. "And no clawing."

Debby frowns. "Just a little?"

"No," Patrick says firmly. He pauses for a moment. "Well, maybe. If I give the okay."

Debby nods, and Patrick doesn't miss the way she crosses her fingers.

"Let me make a call or two," he says, fingers going up to his earpiece, "and we can be on our way. Go get Pete ready for me, please?"

Debby nods and goes to find Pete.

"Agent 0305. Come in, Agent 0305. Over," Patrick says, switching on channel five.

"Copy that. Over," he hears Agent 0305.

"Will you monitor Eleven's base?" Patrick asks. "Watch for intruders, let me know if there's any commotion. Over."

"Affirmative," Agent 0305 says. "Over."

"Thank you. Over and out."

"Roger that. Over."

"We're ready to go," Patrick says, stuffing his tablet into his bag. "Oh, hold on."

He walks into Josh's room and turns the TV on, putting it on mute before flipping until he finds a channel playing Spongebob.

"Okay, we're ready," he says, casting one last glance at Josh's sleeping form before he leaves.

 

 

 

_”Why do you wear that hat all the time?” Patrick asks one day as he and Agent Donkey eat lunch together._

_Agent Donkey shrugs. “It’s classified.”_

_“Why?”_

_He shrugs again. “It’s what it says on my file.”_

_“You have a file?”_

_“Everyone here has a file,” Agent Donkey says. “I have a file, you have a file. I guessed you haven’t noticed, but the government loves files.”_

_Patrick nods, feeling mildly disturbed, but mostly curious._

_“Who has_ my _file?” he asks._

_“I do,” Agent Donkey says._

_“What does it say?”_

_“Oh, not much,” the agent say, shrugging. “Name, date of birth, where you’ve lived, where you’ve gone to school, the names of your relatives, the names of your friends, stuff like that.”_

_Patrick stares at him._ “That’s _not much?”_

_Agent Donkey looks at him in surprise. “No, it’s not much at all.” He takes a bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “You know, when Josh gets to go live on his own, you’ll be able to monitor him as closely as you like. You’ll be able to monitor anyone he has contact with as closely as you’d like.”_

_“…that’s creepy,” Patrick says decidedly._

_The agent shrugs. “Honestly, it’s not bad at all. The NSA does worse.”_

_Patrick shifts, suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable._

_“Sorry if I freaked you out,” Agent Donkey apologizes._

_“It’s fine,” Patrick says dismissively. “You’re just keeping things real.”_

 

 

 

"Yes?" Tyler Joseph says cautiously as he opens the door.

"We're coming in," Patrick says, and he, Pete, and Debby push past Tyler and make their way into the living room.

"Hey!" Tyler yelps, looking indignant.

"Oh, shut up," Patrick snaps. "Get over here. We have to talk to you."

Tyler closes the front door with a sigh and slowly makes his way towards the living room.

"I could call the police," he says.

"Wouldn't that be funny," Pete says dryly.

Tyler sighs, dropping down onto the sofa across from them.

"What if Mark was here?" he says.

"He's not; he's visiting family and he won't be back until Sunday," Patrick says, and Tyler narrows his eyes.

"Josh never texted you my address, did he?"

"We are going to talk about Josh," he says, ignoring Tyler's question.

Tyler sighs. "I'm guessing you heard about my reaction, then."

"Oh, yeah," Patrick says as he pulls out his tablet. "Yeah, we heard about it."

"Look," Tyler says, scrubbing his face with his hands, "I'm really, really sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Debby snorts. "That's going to fix everything."

Tyler looks up warily. "Fix what?"

"Fix the fact that Josh nearly died after you left," Debby says casually. Tyler jerks back. "Oh, you didn't hear?"

"What? Is he all right?" Tyler asks anxiously.

"NO, HE'S NOT ALL RIGHT, YOU IDIOT!" Debby bellows, and Tyler jumps. "DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE I SAID HE NEARLY DIED?!"

"Debby," Patrick says.

"What- what happened?" Tyler says, looking nervous. "How was he hurt? What happened?"

"He tried to cut his gills out," Patrick says. Tyler flinches at the word "gills."

"Tried? I don't-"

"As in he passed out from blood loss before he could finish," Patrick says, and Tyler swallows hard.

"Where is he?" Tyler asks.

"Resting," Patrick says. "And I doubt he wants to see you."

Tyler sighs, burying his head in his hands. "I don't blame him." He looks up. "But can you blame me?"

Patrick raises his eyebrows. "Yes," he says slowly. "Yes, I can."

"Come on," Tyler says, laughing nervously. "None of you had a similar reaction when you found out about-" he gestures to his neck, "the gill thing?"

"No," Patrick tells him. "No, I did not. And I met him when he still had fins, pointed teeth, and no contact lenses."

"Well..." Tyler looks at Debby and Pete. They both shake their heads. "Oh."

"You're just an asshole," Pete tells him.

 

 

 

_Josh and Debby have taught themselves how to play some strange version of Candy Land._

_It started with Patrick bringing in the board game and trying to show them how to play. It ended with Debby inadvertently ripping through the board with her talons and several of the pieces chomped in half by Josh._

_So Debby and Josh composed a game with just the cards._

_Patrick isn’t entirely certain if this is how they play, but it seems to be them cutting the deck in half, picking a color, and putting the cards down one by one as fast as they can. Whoever puts down the card with the picked color first wins._

_Patrick is surprised to see that it keeps them occupied for nearly four hours straight._

_Josh has a winning streak that lasts for nearly ninety games, and Patrick can’t help but feel stupidly proud of him._

 

 

"I," Patrick begins, "am going to tell you a story."

"What?" Tyler asks, sounding bewildered.

"Shut up," Patrick says pleasantly enough. "Story time. So, once upon a time there was a twenty-two year old man, only a doctor by formality. He hadn't even done his residency."

"Is the man you?" Tyler asks.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Patrick asks rhetorically. "So this man had just graduated from medical school when an agent from the government approached him. The agent wanted the man to help this patient. A 'different' patient. Intrigued, the man said yes.

"So the man was taken to a military hospital where he met his new patient, a sixteen-year-old boy. The first thing he noticed about the boy was the eyes. He had dark, empty eyes." Patrick pauses, remembering. "But the man didn't care. The boy needed his help.

“The man learned that the boy had been a victim to abuse for fifteen years straight. He had been subjected to experiments that I hesitate to call scientific and had been treated as nothing more than an animal. Those fifteen years had left him scarred, physically as well as mentally.”

“Is this Josh?” Tyler asks hesitantly.

“No, it’s his imaginary friend Albert,” Debby snaps.

“Quiet, Debby,” Patrick says, and Debby falls silent. “The boy had a lot of trouble at first. He refused to respond to his birth name. He would often smash his head against the wall or bite himself as a form of self-injury. He was barely able to speak. But the man was very patient, and very willing to do whatever he could to help the boy.”

 

 

 

 _Josh has his first panic attack in a long time the day Patrick comes in wearing a white jacket._

_Josh’s eyes go wide the moment Patrick walks into his room that morning and clambers off of his bed, pressing himself against the wall._

_“Hey, what’s wrong?” Patrick asks, taking a step closer to Josh._

_Josh whimpers, pressing himself even further against the wall._

_“Are you feeling all right?” Patrick reaches out touch Josh’s forehead to check for fever, (not that he’s ever had one,) but Josh lets out a shriek and drops to the floor._

_Josh curls up in a ball, shaking as he looks up at Patrick with wide eyes._

_“Josh, talk to me,” Patrick begs. He kneels down in front of his patient, but he’s careful to leave plenty of space between them. “What’s wrong?”_

_“White coat,” Josh whispers, voice barely audible._

_“White coat?” Patrick repeats, confused. He looks down at his jacket. “You don’t like my jacket?”_

_Josh shakes his head._

_“Oh,” Patrick says, feeling bewildered. He takes off his jacket and throws it somewhere behind him. “Better?”_

_Josh launches himself forward and wraps his arms around Patrick._

_“Thought you were white coat,” he whispers. “Thought you were hurt me.”_

_And Patrick realizes._

_“No, Josh,” he says, hugging back. “I’m not a white coat. I’m not a scientist. And I’ll_ never _hurt you.”_

_Josh relaxes into him. “Good.”_

 

 

 

“So is this Josh or not?” Tyler asks as Patrick finishes recounting the story about O’Malley Research in Biotechnology Incorporated and their goals with experimentation. “I mean, it can’t be, right? Why would the government just let someone like that go?" 

Patrick, Debby, and Pete all freeze.

“Someone like what?” Patrick asks carefully.

“With, you know.” Tyler gestures indiscernibly. “Stuff… _wrong_ with them.”

“And what, exactly, is wrong with Josh?”

“So it _is_ Josh!”

“Patrick,” Debby says carefully, not taking her eyes off Tyler, “could I please kill him now? Just a little bit?”

Patrick chuckles dryly. “I’d kind of like him to be breathing when I show him the pictures.”

Debby makes a disappointed noise.

“Pictures?” Tyler asks warily.

“Should we start from the beginning and go forward, or start from the end and go backward?” Patrick asks no one in particular as he turns his tablet on and opens the photo album he set up for this very occasion.

“Let's start at the very beginning,” Pete says with a vague tune to it. “A very good place to start.”

“Yes, thank you Mrs. Von Trapp,” Patrick says. He holds up the very first picture for Tyler to see, and Tyler jumps back in horror.

“That’s… that’s Josh?” he asks weakly, staring at the picture of baby Josh locked up and sobbing.

“That’s Josh,” Patrick confirms, flipping to the next picture.

Tyler flinches again at the next picture.

Josh is still a baby, looking slightly older and barely alive. His body is covered in needle marks and other scars.

“What happened to him?” Tyler whispers.

“They started the experiments,” Patrick says simply, flipping to another picture.

 

 

 

 _Despite how happy Josh seems to be now, how_ human, _Patrick sometimes forgets that Josh is part animal too._

_It’s his fault, really. He startled Josh, and what’s more, he pinned him. And everyone with common sense knows not to corner a scared animal._

_Josh is thrashing in his bed, grunting and whimpering, and he sounds absolutely terrified. Patrick tries to gently shake him awake, repeating his name, but it doesn’t work._

_Josh slowly starts to become louder and louder, sounding even more distressed. Patrick starts to yell his name, but Josh doesn’t stir._

_“JOSH!” he screams, and unfortunately, Josh’s eyes fly open the moment Patrick’s fingers slip to his neck and accidentally pressed down._

_Patrick barely has a second to process what just happened until he’s flying back and landing on the cold floor, arm bleeding._

_Josh is standing above him, eyes rolled back into his head and teeth bared. He looks positively demonic._

_“Josh,” Patrick whispers, ignoring the pain in his arm. “Josh, I’m so sorry.”_

_It’s a few long minutes before Josh’s breathing slows and his eyes roll back into place._

_“Pa’rick?” he whispers, sinking to his knees._

_“Josh, I am_ so sorry,” _Patrick says._

_“Pa’rick, you’re bleeding,” Josh says._

_Patrick looks down. He is indeed bleeding._

_“It’s okay,” he says. “You were having a nightmare.”_

_“Was I?”_

 

 

“Stop, please,” Tyler begs as he stares at pictures of Josh as a child, emaciated and nearly dead. _”Please.”_

“Why?” Patrick asks, flipping to another picture. “Because he has ‘stuff wrong with him?’”

“No! Yes! I… I don’t know,” Tyler says. He looks at the picture Patrick just flipped to. “Oh. Oh, my gosh. Oh my gosh.”

Josh is strapped to a stainless steel slab with a tube down his throat. His eyes are half-open and he looks like a corpse.

“That’s a feeding tube,” Patrick tells him. “You see, great white sharks can’t be kept in captivity. Do you know why?”

“They become depressed,” Tyler says softly. “They bang their heads against the side of the tank and refuse to eat.”

“That’s right,” Patrick says. “Josh was doing both. So they strapped him down so he couldn’t hit his head and shoved a tube down his throat so he got all the nutrients he needed.”

“Oh, gosh,” Tyler murmurs. He looks like he’s on the verge of bursting into tears.

Patrick flips to another picture.

“Ah, here’s a powerful one,” he says, and Tyler blanches when he sees it.

“What…” he swallows. “What happened?”

“Oh, you see, when they padded the walls on his cell, he couldn’t hit his head,” Patrick says. “So he bit himself.”

“That mask,” Tyler says, pointing to the mask similar to the one Hannibal wore. “Is that to stop him?”

“Spot on,” Patrick says.

 

 

 

_Josh has a fantastic sense of smell, Patrick knows this. And Josh is particularly good at smelling blood._

_So no matter how many layers of gauze Patrick wraps around his wound, no matter how many shirts he puts on, Josh can always smell the bite he gave Patrick. And he can’t forget it._

_Subsequently, Josh apologizes every other second._

_“Josh, it’s_ okay,” _Patrick says for what he swears is the billionth time. “It’s_ fine.”

_“I hurt you!” Josh exclaims. “Not okay! Not fine!”_

_“It was an accident,” Patrick says soothingly. “Everyone has accidents.”_

_“Even you?” Josh questions._

_“Even me,” Patrick confirms._

_Josh looks at him in shock. “But you’re perfect, Rick!”_

_Patrick laughs. “I’m certainly not perfect, Josh.”_

_Josh frowns. “Say an accident you had.”_

_Patrick nods. “Hmm,” he says. “Well, I’ve had lots of accidents, Josh.”_

_“Say the worst one.”_

_“Hmm.” He claps his hands together. “Okay. One time I was at school. You know what school is, right?” Josh nods. “I had all of my books as I was walking upstairs. Lots of books. This many,” he says, demonstrating with his hands. “And it took me a long, long time to get upstairs. And at the very top, do you know what I did?” Josh shakes his head. “I tripped.”_

_Josh giggles._

_“All of my books fell, and so did I,” Patrick says, grinning in spite of herself. “And as I fell, I hit lots and lots of people on the way down, and_ they _fell too.”_

_Josh laughs._

_“See, Josh?” Patrick says. “We all have accidents.”_

 

 

 

Tyler’s crying by the time Patrick finishes showing him the pictures.

“He didn’t chose to be the way he is,” Patrick says softly. “And he shouldn’t have to hide.”

“I’m sorry,” Tyler whispers.

“Good,” Patrick says. “You know, he’s wanted nothing more than to be completely human. He tries to forget he’s part shark. He doesn’t go to the reunions the other mutants have. He got nearly everything shark-like on his body removed. And what he couldn’t remove, he hid.” He points at Tyler. “He lives in fear, Tyler. He lives in fear that people are going to react to him in exactly the way you did. It’s been ten years since he was freed from that hell he’s lived in for over half his life, and he _still_ doesn’t consider himself human.”

Tyler buries his head in his hands.

“Wait,” he says, voice slightly muffled by his palms. “Ten years? Wouldn’t that make him twenty-six?”

“Yes,” Patrick says.

“But he said he’s twenty-five,” Tyler says, looking up with a frown.

Patrick sighs. “Josh doesn’t know his age,” he says. “He doesn’t _care.”_

 

 

 

_Patrick brings in a notebook and colored pencils in one day._

_“Your name looks like this,” Patrick says, writing out J-O-S-H in capital letters._

_Josh frowns. “My name is Josh,” he says. “You hear name, Rick. Not see.”_

_“You can do both,” Patrick tells him._

_Josh’s frown deepens. “How?”_

_“There’s a whole alphabet,” Patrick says. “And with the alphabet, you can see any word you hear.”_

_“What’s alphabet?”_

_“It’s a list of all of the letters,” Patrick says. “Letters make words.”_

_Josh nods, although Patrick can tell he’s not really getting it._

_“Can you write this?” Patrick asks, handing Josh the pencil and pointing to his name._

_Josh picks up the pencil and underneath it, makes an indiscernible scribble._

_“Good, Rick?” he asks eagerly._

_Patrick looks at the scribble and sighs._

_“Yes, Josh,” he says. “It’s good.”_

 

 

 

“Lunchbox. Come in, Lunchbox. 10-17. Over.”

“State your message. 10-12. Over,” Patrick says somewhat frantically into the receiver.

“Eleven has left base. Over.”

“Did you track him? Over.”

“Affirmative. Eleven is currently en route to your 20. Over.”

“How does he look? Over.”

“Permission to speak freely? Over.”

“Permission granted. Over.”

“Utterly deranged. Over.”

“Shit,” Patrick says truthfully. “Approximate TOA? Over.”

“Ten minutes. Over.”

“Shit,” Patrick says again. “Debby?”

“Yeah?”

“Eleven’s heading to our 20. Can you track him?”

“Can golden eagles fly?” she scoffs as she pulls off her jacket.

“Oh, crap,” Tyler says when he sees her wings, and promptly passes out.

“Um,” Debby says.

“Ignore him,” Pete says. “Go find Josh before he murders anyone.”

“And be careful!” Patrick calls.

 

 

 

_The day Agent Donkey kisses Patrick is the day Agent Donkey is bitten by Josh is the day that Agent Donkey’s multiple secrets are revealed. And in that order, too._

_They were sitting and watching Josh swim happily in the pool when Agent Donkey says, “I don’t know if you know this, but you’re really hot.”_

_“You’re really hot too,” Patrick says as a knee-jerk reaction. A stupid knee-jerk reaction._

_An accurate knee-jerk reaction._

_Agent Donkey smiles, leans in, and hesitantly gives Patrick a chaste kiss._

_Patrick’s eyes are still closed when he hears the agent yelping in pain._

_His eyes fly open to see Josh sinking his sharp teeth into Agent Donkey’s shoulder._

_“Josh!” Patrick yelps, throwing himself between them. “What are you doing?”_

_“What he doing?” Josh demands, pointing at Agent Donkey._

_“He was… uh.” Patrick scratches his neck. “Kissing me.”_

_“Why was funny smelling man kissing you?” Josh asks._

_“Funny smelling?” Agent Donkey wonders aloud._

_“I don’t know, Josh,” Patrick says, sighing._

_“He smells wrong!” Josh says in a way that’s obviously intended to be a whisper, but it fails miserably._

_“Josh, don’t be rude-”_

_“He’s not human!” Josh yells. “Not like me! Not like Debby!”_

_Patrick looks at Agent Donkey in surprise._

_The agent sighs. “I’d have preferred to tell him on my own, Josh,” he says. He reaches up for his hat with a wince and_ _slowly pulls it hat off._

_“Are those… donkey ears?”_

_“Ass ears, to be precise,” Agent Donkey says with a smirk._

_And Patrick bursts out laughing._

_Agent Donkey joins him, and Josh watches, confused, as they both laugh themselves to near tears._

_“My name is Peter Wentz,” Agent Donkey says finally, holding out a hand. “I am Number Eight.”_

 

 

 

“He says he just wants to talk,” Debby says as she walks in with Josh.

 Tyler, who had very recently come to, looks ready to burst into tears when he sees Josh. And then actually does burst into tears when he sees Josh’s neck.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobs, running towards Josh and hesitantly wrapping his arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”

And Josh, being the idiot who forgives too easily he is, says, “It’s okay.”

 

 

 

_”I’m not ready,” Patrick had said to Pete. “I’m sorry.”_

_“That’s okay,” Pete had replied. “I can wait._

**Author's Note:**

> the ending's kind of ehhh but I was anxious to get it done before it got _too_ long.


End file.
